Crossing Lines
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: Booth and Brennan's partnership is dissolved when the FBI learns of their relationship. They build a life outside of crime-fighting.  Things are good. Until a voice from the past brings devastating news with deadly consequences. Can their love survive?
1. Trouble on the Line

**A/N: **I know we all hate author notes but **PLEASE READ.**

I'm crazy for doing this when I already have another multi-chapter story in progress (especially one that I need to update) but this idea just keeps haunting me. It won't quit and it won't go away. I really don't enjoy angst but I figure I better get it out of my system before it eats me alive.

The backstory for how we got to this point will be explained along the way in the form of flashbacks. Hopefully it won't be too confusing. If there's something in particular you think is important that you want me to try and address please feel free to drop me a line.

Special thanks to jenlovesbones for helping me with the story title and the name of the restaurant...and for dragging me into the full swing of Twitter.

Finally - this is unbetaed. All mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out...or mock them.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that you recognize. I make no profit and intend no copyright infringement.

* * *

Chapter One: Trouble on the Line

Change is inevitable. People grow and adapt to the events and relationships that touch their lives. Through birth, life, love and even death we learn little details that push us forward. Things that make us want to change. Things that help us discover who we truly are.

Temperance Brennan looks down at the red heels sticking out from beneath her navy blue suit pants and smiles. In another lifetime, she'd have said that it was her best friend Angela Montenegro who had picked out the pumps telling her that every woman should accessorize with a bright splash of color. But these shoes were selected by someone else. Someone very special.

She runs her fingers over the chunky beads of the necklace hanging around her throat as she waits for the stagehand's direction. When instructed to do so, she takes her seat and the technician double checks the functionality of the microphone at her left lapel. She smiles kindly at him as they are joined by the show's host.

"Dr. Brennan," the blonde sticks out her hand. She has the appearance of an aging beauty queen - too much make-up and enough styling products to keep every hair in place in gale force winds. Her bright colored suit is ill-fitted for a woman of her age and weight. "It's so lovely to have you. I'm a huge fan."

"Ms. Winters," she acknowledges coolly as she accepts it. "I'd say the same, but I don't watch much television."

The woman's smile is forced now, something she only notices after years of watching her partner - no, _husband_ - interact with people. They take their respective positions as the countdown for the interview begins.

"And we're back," Winters declares as the cameras start rolling again. "I'm here with world-renowned forensic anthropologist and best-selling author Dr. Temperance Brennan to discuss her latest novel - Skeletons in the Closet." She holds up the glossy hardback. "You're really turning them out these days, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan touches the buttons on her suit jacket. Her brow furrows slightly. "I don't know what that means," she replies.

The talk-show host has to work not to roll her eyes. "Early in your writing career, it was a year or more between your books," she states, "The last several years, you've been publishing more frequently - almost every six months."

Brennan can't stop the smile from touching her lips. She's avoided giving interviews in the past, even when her publisher pleaded with her. She realizes that this is the first one she's done since all of the changes in her life. "Yes," she says, her eyes sparkling, "That's correct..."

* * *

_Five years ago..._

"You're sure about this?" she asks, her eyes glittering up at him.

"About us?" he asks her. When she nods he cups the side of her face that isn't bruised. "More sure than I've ever been about anything," he tells her, "I'd rather have you than the FBI. I can find another job. I could never find another you."

She leans in and kisses him softly as her fingers curl into his. "Let's go," she says as the elevator doors slide open.

Everyone in the bullpen gets to their feet as the agent and his partner step into the room. There are whispers and stares but neither of the lovers notice.

Sweets hurries over and steps in front of the couple. "Just give me more time," he pleads. "I can get this worked out."

Brennan squeezes Booth's hand. Her eyes tell him it's his decision to make. He shakes his head. _It isn't worth it. He's almost lost her one too many times._ "Listen, Sweets," he says resting the hand that isn't holding Brennan's on the younger man's shoulder. "I know you mean well but I'm done. Life's too short. This was my - "

"Our," Brennan interrupts.

He gives her a soft smile. "_Our_ last case," Booth finishes.

"I can make them reconsider dissolving your partnership. Your closure rate is exemplary. They..."

"Kid, I appreciate what you're getting at but we're done with crime fighting," his hand drops to his side and they sidestep the psychologist, leaving Sweets crestfallen at the departure of his favorite patients.

* * *

In another part of town there is a little pub. The owner chuckles as he polishes the last of the glasses that remain in Sunday night's rack behind the bar and puts it away with an admiring glance at it's logo. An acorn tips at a jaunty angle next to thick letters. _The Nut House._

As he completes the task he grins as he thinks about how far his wife has come - how far _they've_ come - as he watches her on the screen. He wipes down the bar with a sterile rag and takes his Monday morning inventory of the liquor and wine.

"_...but I'm not here to discuss my personal life. I'm here to discuss my book,"_ he hears her tell the host coolly.

"That's my girl," he laughs as he leans against the counter.

"_How about a few questions then?"_

Dragging his attention away from the flat screen, he calls out to partner in the kitchen. "Hey, Gordon?"

The former psychologist turned chef pops his head out and slings a towel over his shoulder. His white shirt is already stained with barbecue sauce from the ribs that have become Monday night's signature dish. Fuzzy eye brows lift on eye contact.

"Let me know when the truck gets here, will ya? I'm going to finish watching Bren's interview."

The Brit nods and heads back to the kitchen.

It's a different kind of partnership for the former FBI Agent, but it's one that he relishes in. Gone are the days of chasing down murderers. Now it's greeting customers and scheduling deliveries. It's waking up every morning next to the woman he loves. And orphaned crayons on the coffee table as tiny hands shuffled magnets to hang family portraits on the refrigerator door...

* * *

_Four years, eleven months ago..._

"I'm home!" he calls out to her as he enters their apartment. "Bones?"

"In here," her voice drifts down the hallway.

He finds her in the bathroom perched on the edge of the tub. It's a scene he's been in before. With another woman. In what, aside from having his son, feels like another life. He finds himself choking on emotion.

"Before you say anything," she says as she reaches for his hand, "I haven't looked yet. If it's positive, I can't do this without you. I don't want to."

Relief floods over him as he hits his knees in front of her. "Marry me."

"Booth, we don't even..." she responds startled by the words even though she expected them.

"It doesn't matter if it's positive today," he says tenderly. "I'm asking because I want to spend the rest of my life holding you whether we have children or not."

A single tear slips from the corner of her eye as she lowers herself to face him. Reaching out, she pulls his mouth down to hers in a soft kiss. Her tongue swipes over his lips and his arms wrap around her frame.

She gropes at the edge of the sink until her fingers close around the plastic stick resting on it's edge. She opens her eyes and looks at the result. Breaking the kiss, she looks into his eyes and smiles broadly. "Yes, Booth," she answers. "Yes, I'll marry you, Daddy."

His eyes light up and he reaches for the test. "No. Really?"

She nods and hands it over.

He looks at it and back at her. "We're gonna have a baby!" he whispers excitedly as he drags her close. Their lips fuse and he realizes that, in that moment, he's fallen in love with her all over again.

* * *

"We're going to take a few questions from our viewers at home now. Hi, you're on the air with Leslie!" Her voice is light and frothy. Exactly what you'd expect from a morning talk show.

The line crackles with static.

"Hello?" the host repeats. "Are you there caller?"

As the station is about to disconnect the call, a chilling augmented voice hits the airwaves. "I have your daughter. You'll receive an envelope. Bring eight million dollars to that address to receive the coordinates of her location. You have 18 hours. This will be my only communication."


	2. Life Lines

**A/N:** And to think I back-burnered this idea figuring that no one would be interested in angst. You all are amazing. Thanks for all the support!

I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly this one fell together. We'll see a bunch of familiar faces in this chapter and the next. Will Booth and Brennan's friends be able to help them get through the next 18 hours and the aftermath of their daughter's kidnapping?

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. I don't own it. No copyright infringement intended. Blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter Two: Life Lines

We've all had that moment. The moment where we are consumed by fear and panic. The moment where we realize that something - _someone _- we love hangs in the balance. For Temperance Brennan _this_ is that moment. The thought of her daughter - the innocent 4-year-old with bouncing auburn curls and her daddy's smile - trapped alone and terrified in the darkness brings the memories flooding back. Memories of her foster parents locking her in the trunk of the car for breaking a dish. Memories of being buried alive.

At the sound of the dial tone her world collapses. For a moment, she wonders if her heart has stopped beating. She feels feverish and her hands begin to shake. Suddenly, she's back underground in the car with Hodgins. Dirt all around them. No way out. Only this time it isn't her. Not only is she painfully aware of the fact, but she wishes like hell that it _was_ her and not her baby. Her sweet little girl.

Her heart pounds. Her airways constrict painfully. Her fingers clench as she tries to fight the shadows back. "Katie," she murmurs softly before everything fades to black.

* * *

_Six and a half years ago..._

She wakes up in a cold sweat and sits upright in bed screaming and clawing at the covers. "No!" she screams out in the darkness of their bedroom.

Years of military training have made him a light sleeper and he quickly frees her from the prison of sheets that bind her. He replaces their bonds with strong arms that draw her to the comfort of his body. "It's okay," he whispers against her hair as the terror subsides. "Breathe. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."

"I just want it to be over," she sobs against his naked chest.

"It is, Baby," he comforts, "You aren't in the car anymore. You got out."

She pushes against him as her flight reflex kicks in. "But it isn't over," she tells him. "It won't be over until the Gravedigger is caught."

"We'll catch him," he assures her.

"You don't know that," her tone is biting now. "You don't know what it's like, Booth."

He closes his eyes and holds her, desperately willing his strength into her body as she quivers in fear. _He'll protect her. He has to. Failure is not an option._

* * *

Gordon Wyatt exits the kitchen at the sound of breaking glass. He sees Booth pulling on his jacket. "Booth? Is everything alright?"

"I gotta go," he says as he steps around the broken bottle and pool of amber liquor on the floor at his feet. "Get one of the guys to clean this up would ya?"

"What's going on?" he asks, cocking his head to the side as he flips a towel over his broad shoulder. He eyes Booth warily. It's obvious to the former psychologist that the younger man is shaken. Looking up he notes the emergency broadcast symbol on the television screen.

Booth grabs his keys. "Bones...Katie..."

Gordon places his large hands on Booth's shoulders. Looking into his eyes he tries to make sense of what's going on. "Yes?"

"There was phone call," he admits slowly as he draws a ragged breath. "I've got to get home and check on Katie and the nanny. The Gravedigger..."

Gordon takes the keys from Booth. "You're in no condition to drive. Let me make sure they can handle the truck." He disappears for a moment and, when he returns, they head to the SUV.

Booth begins making phone calls. Brennan. Voicemail; her phone likely in another part of the studio. The house. No answer, just the machine where he leaves a frantic message. Gina's cell phone. Voicemail.

Just as he flips it shut, it begins to ring. He quickly answers it. "Booth."

"_Tell me this is a joke, Booth."_ Sam Cullen's voice comes from the other end of the line.

"I don't know, Sam," he tells the older man. He rolls his neck. "I'm trying to figure it out."

"_What can we do?"_

Cullen and his wife had become an extra set of grandparents to Katie. As he had often told Brennan, there was more than one kind of family and couple was doing everything they could to give her what neither of them really had growing up. "Start calling in any favors we have left..."

* * *

_Five years ago..._

When the pair get to Cullen's office Booth knocks on the door. "This'll only take a minute, sir."

The director looks at them with a faint smile. "Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," he says.

"That's actually why we're here, sir. I figured I'd save you the trouble." Booth lays his gun and badge on the desk.

The older man heaves a sigh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this," he says. "Your partnership is one of the best things that has happened to this division in years."

"Sir," Booth begins.

Cullen raises a hand. "It's not that I'm unwilling to accept your resignation, Booth. My superiors have all but demanded it." His smile is sad. "It was wrong for you to keep your relationship from us, but at the same time you have done a lot of good and a lot of criminals have been brought to justice thanks to the two of you. Splitting you up would be protocol, but you don't get to where I am without learning to bend the rules when you need to." He chuckles, "Which is why I told them they could take mine, too."

That's when Booth notices that all the pictures, diplomas and commendations have been pulled down off of the walls. All the personal items rest in cartons around the room's edges. "How could I not fight for you after what you did for Amy?"

A tear slides over Brennan's cheek as Booth outstretches his hand for a shake. "Thank you, sir."

The touch is firm. "No, Booth, thank you. It's been a pleasure."

Booth laughs. "So, retirement, huh? I figured you'd be working until you were 90."

"My wife's been trying to get me to retire ever since we lost Amy. We want to travel." The director lets out a chuckle of his own. "My only regret is how eager Andrew is to replace me. He's already been in here with a damned tape measurer."

"Hacker has always been a real piece of work..." Booth replies shaking his head.

Locking the gun and badge in the desk drawer he turns back to Booth. "So what about you? What's next?"

"Haven't really decided that yet..." Booth starts as he looks over at Brennan.

She entwines her fingers with his. Blue eyes meet brown and hold on tight. "All that matters is that we have each other."

* * *

Brennan comes to and finds herself propped against the arm of the chaise lounge in the dressing room where they did her make-up. The nervous talk-show host paces in the corner and security guards flank the doorway.

"Dr. Brennan, I want you to know that the network had no part in this," she says quickly. "We are doing everything we can to cooperate and..."

Brennan ignores the woman's ramblings as she attempts to locate her ringing cell phone. "Booth?"

"_Dr. B., Angela and I heard the interview. How much money can you get your hands on? I've got a meeting with my account in an hour to start pulling together however much you need to get Katie back."_

A sigh of relief escapes her at the sound of a friendly voice. "Most of what I have is tied up in the restaurant and the house. I can pull together at least three, maybe as much as five, easily."

"_We'll get her back,"_ he attempts to reassure her.

"I know," she says weakly as she clings onto the one thing she can. Hope.

* * *

Booth hurries into the brownstone with Gordon hot on his heels. He goes to the kitchen first. "Gina?" he calls out to the nanny. No response.

He checks the basement level where the playroom is located. Nothing. Not a sign of either of them.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he climbs to the second floor and bursts into Katie's room. Dolls litter the flower shaped carpet and a _Clifford _book lays open on the bed next to her magic wand. He hurries back downstairs.

"No signs of foul play," he says transitioning into cop mode. He looks at his watch. "The park," he says. "They always go to the park Monday."

* * *

Special Agent Payton Perotta paces the edge of the crime scene as she waits for Dr. Camille Saroyan to arrive. She feels bad calling her in under false pretenses, but an order is an order. She looks at her watch wondering what's taking so long.

Cam walks toward the barrier in her usual confident stride. Perotta realizes that the news has yet to reach her. Once the coroner slips under the tape they approach the body.

"Shouldn't the D.C. Police be handling this one?" Cam asks, snapping on gloves as she bends down to the edge of the bushes in front of her. "I mean..."

"Dr. Saroyan, I think you should..."

Cam pushes back the branches and looks at the young woman's face. What she sees causes her to pause. She forces herself to take a deep breath. "Oh boy," she says suddenly realizing the real reason she's been called away from her desk. She looks up from her squatting position at the agent next to her. "This is definitely Booth and Brennan's nanny." Her next breath catches in her throat and her brow furrows. "Oh, God. Where's Katie?"


	3. Get Me to You

**A/N: **Special thanks to jsq and ProfeJMarie for agreeing to help me out of a little conundrum with this one. Though it worked itself out, it's nice to know y'all had my back. What's the expression? Oh, yeah - I get by with a little help from my friends.

I had been putting this update off because of all the angst going on with the show...but in the last week no less than three people have asked about it. I even got a review saying "I need you to update this. Like, now." You guys really know how to push a girl's buttons...

**Disclaimer:** Again, not mine.

Get Me To You

His cell phone rings as he and Gordon are en route to the park. Shifting to pull it out of his pocket, he doesn't bother looking to see who it is before answering "Booth," he answers frantically.

"Seeley, I don't want you to panic..." Cam's voice comes from the other end of the line.

_The trouble with telling someone not to panic is that it makes the situation worse. It's kind of like saying 'don't look behind you' - you'll do it every time. _He exhales. "Cam, I can't talk right now. I've gotta find Gina and..."

"Please tell me Katie is with you..." she utters. There's a plea in her voice.

"I'm hoping she's at the park with Gina. Bones got a call..." he slams his hand against the dashboard when they are forced to stop at a red light. "Dammit!"

"Booth, I'm at the park," she tells him. Her tone is clipped. What little she knows isn't good. There's no time for niceties. "Gina's dead."

Booth pales. _Things just became very real. _Muttering a quick comment about talking to her later, he hangs up the phone. Turning to Gordon, he shakes his head. "Turn around," he says stiffly. "Need to get to Bren."

Making the next U-turn, the psychologist-turned-chef sizes up his companion. He sees the muscles in Booth's neck tighten and watches his jaw set. "It's alright to be upset, Booth," he says. "She is you're daughter."

"What are you? A psychologist?" his effort at humor falls flat. "Look, Gordon, just get me to my wife."

He leans back against the seat and closes his eyes. The drive to the television station is painful. His chest burns at the inability to catch his breath. He's got to get to his wife. To his daughter.

_Oh, Katie Bug. Hang on. Daddy's gonna find you...just like he found your Mom._

* * *

_Seven years ago..._

A cloud of dust rises in the distance catching his attention. He takes off running toward it. Though it isn't far, it feels like miles. Faith, hope and love carry him when he doesn't think he' can make it there.

He drops to his knees and immediately begins digging. Pushing the dirt away. Tears prick the backs of his eyelids. _Please, God, let us have gotten here in time_. Then he feels a hand. Ahand he's sure he'd know anywhere. And he's using all his strength, as he struggles with fear and emotion, to bring her to the surface. To bring her back to him.

Even dirty she's beautiful. He sees the rise and fall of her chest. Hears her whisper for them to get Hodgins. He wants to hold her close. To kiss her. To make sure she knows that he'll always come for her. But he can't. Not here. Not now. So they stare at each other, their eyes communicating all the things they aren't ready to share with the world.

Later he goes to her apartment. Words aren't necessary. He kisses her temple, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. His fingertips ghost down over the silk robe covering her back until they rest in _his_ spot. He pulls her against his chest and his lips brush over hers. He drinks her in, savoring every sigh and whimper.

Bending at the knee, he sweeps her into his arms and carries her to bed. They undress each other and his heart breaks at the bruises she bears from her ordeal. He makes love to her with tender passion as tears fall from both sets of eyes.

He knows that without her, he's nothing. That there could be no life. That there would be no moving on.

* * *

He pushes past security and enters the dressing room. Their eyes meet and they are drawn together. She is his center. Together they must hold.

"Booth," she breathes through her tears as she reaches for him. "Katie..."

He catches her in his arms and they cling to each other. He kisses her temple and mumbles words of comfort as she sobs against his chest. "God, Baby, I don't know how this happened..."

_This_ is her worst nightmare. It's worse than waking buried alive with Hodgins. It's worse than all the nights she woke up screaming, convinced that she was still underground. That she was dying. This was her child, her daughter. "My baby," she says. "Booth, our little girl..."

The room feels as though it's spinning around her. She shuts her eyes tightly. _What if there wasn't enough time? Katie was just a child. She wouldn't know what to do. She wouldn't have the tools even if she did._

* * *

_Seven years ago..._

"How much extra time?" he asks her weakly as she settles back onto the seat beside him after releasing the air from the spare tire.

"A little," she tells him softly. "Four other tires but we can't get to 'em. Is there anything else?"

"If the ransom was paid, we'd be out by now," he says miserably. The pain is getting to him. Hope is fading. "Why prolong the inevitable?"

"Booth'll find us," she says matter of factly. She thinks of her partner, her lover. He'd never give up on them.

Hodgins can't help but smile at her. "You have a lot of faith in Booth."

"No," she answers. _It was about more than faith. He had given her plenty of evidence. "_Faith is an irrational belief in something that is logically impossible. Over time, I've seen what Booth can do. It's not faith."

"No offense - and I'm not just saying this because you've filleted me with a knife - we are out of air," he's growing weary, but the conspiracy theorist admires her confidence and smiles softly. "We don't know if our message got out, much less if anyone understood it. And we are buried underground. What you have is faith, Baby..."

* * *

Hodgins words echo in her ears. She had faith in this man. She loved and trusted him with her life. But that didn't change anything. "She's trapped, Booth," her eyes gleam with tears. "Katie's trapped and alone."

He doesn't want to think about it. He can't. He needs to be strong. He needs to hold it together. For her. For their little girl. "We'll find her," he says.

She pulls away. Her eyes narrow. "You don't know that, Booth. You haven't been there. You don't know what it's like." The tears well and she angrily brushes them away. "You weren't locked in the trunk of a car for breaking a dish, you weren't buried alive by a deranged murderer," she snaps at him.

He reaches for her only to have her back away. "Bones," he begins, trying desperately to keep the hurt out of his voice. "Bren, you're right. I don't know what it's like, but..."

She jerks away from his hand. "No!" she yells. "Booth, she's little. She can't...Hodgins and I barely..."

He fights to get her into his arms. It's where she needs to be now. "We'll find her in time," he repeats."

"It's not about finding her. It's about getting the money in time," she says, shifting to look into her husband's eyes. "Hodgins and I are putting together the ransom."


	4. Falling Apart

**A/N:** Sucks losing half a chapter...moral of the story? Save, save, save again! Though I think that this may be better than what I originally had...

Sending this one is for my girls Clare and Laura who've promised to stick with me through the angst. Clare - You said you were surprised to see something like this from me, I'm both tickled and apologetic for that. Laura - It's still December 26th in my part of the world, so you _know _what that means.

To them and to the rest of you who hang in with me, thanks for having faith...

**Warning: **I'm making this a new feature for this story. In case you need a reminder, the genres for this one are **Angst/Drama**. I won't be making apologies if someone gets offended. Writing this is hard enough.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones. _Which may be a good thing.

* * *

Falling Apart

Throughout life, we take on many roles and wear many hats. Hats that can be worn together. Hats that have to be kept separate. We juggle and rearrange. We learn how to manage.

We start out as someone's son or daughter. We are sisters or brothers. We learn to be more than just ourselves. We become husbands and wives. Mothers and fathers. We balance families and careers.

Sometimes it's easy. Everything aligns and transitions are seamless. But what do you do when paths collide and fate twists and pulls the strings taut? What do you do when you have to decide the unthinkable? How do you choose?

* * *

_Five years ago..._

Booth leaps from the SUV barely taking the time to shift into park. Like a madman, he sprints into the warehouse as he draws his sidearm from the holster at his waist. _Damn her for not listening._

His heart drops into his stomach when he sees her, the bile and acid dissolving it. She hangs by her wrists from a meathook, her face bruised and shirt bloodied. The garment hangs torn, barely covering her slender frame. He grits his teeth.

He sees the perp pacing predatory circles around her. The man appears to be unarmed but he knows that means nothing. He called for back-up on the way to the location. He knows he should wait for them - _especially_ given the sensitivity of the situation - but it's his partner, _his _Bones, at risk. Utilizing years of sniper and SWAT training, he inches toward the pair stealthily.

"What's it gonna be, _chica_?" he hears Ortiz ask her. He watches in horror as the gang leader withdraws both a gun and a switchblade, taunting his partner. _He should have known that his threat would only last so long._

Ortiz approaches Brennan and slips the cool tang of the knife against her abdomen. He doesn't cut her. Instead, he quickly drags the knife against the lowest button. Brennan flinches as the piece of plastic skips across the floor.

The gasp and single tear that slides over her cheek draw Booth out of hiding. Gun raised, he calls out to Ortiz. "We've had this conversation," he says sharply. "What did I tell you was going to happen if you went after my partner?"

"Agent Booth," the reply comes with a smile that shows a glittering gold capped tooth.

"I'm only going to say this once. Drop. Your. Weapons." Booth advances without taking his eyes off of the younger man standing in front of him.

Ortiz levels his gun sideways at Booth. "I'm not afraid of you," he says as two other gang members step out of hiding.

Booth gulps. _This is why you don't get involved with your partner. It makes you soft. You stop thinking._

_

* * *

_

He's been in this situation before. He'd made the wrong choice then. He followed his heart instead of his gut and it almost came at the cost of her life. He wasn't going to do that. He wouldn't take chances again. He wouldn't gamble on his daughter's life. "No," he says forcefully.

Brennan shakes her head. "What do you mean 'no', Booth?" she asks, blinking back more tears. "It's not open for discussion. It's our daughter!"

He reaches for her. He longs to sooth her fears. To explain. She backs away from him.

"Don't touch me," she says. She reaches for her coat and handbag. She pushes past him and out the door. She runs to her car and hurries out of the parking lot.

She dials the lab as she pulls out of the parking structure. "I'm on my way," she says when Angela answers the phone. Her friend questions the tone of her voice. "No, Angela, I'm not okay," she says. "Booth doesn't want to pay the ransom. He...he doesn't know what it's like to be trapped."

"But he knows what it's like to search, Bren," Angela reminds her from the other end of the line.

Brennan brushes the tears from her eyes with the back of her had, thankful for hand-free technology. "She's my baby, Ange," she sobs. "I want her back. I can't lose her the way I almost lost him..."

Angela grips the phone. Brennan doesn't have to say another word for her to know exactly what she's talking about...

* * *

_Six years ago..._

One minute, she's standing on stage belting the words to _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ and watching him smile at her as he waves a lighter in the air. The next, she's on the floor next to him, grabbing his gun and shooting Pam Nunan in the throat.

She'll always remember the pop of the bullet leaving the gun. She remembers because it meant taking her eyes off of him, even if only for a moment.

She'll always remember Hodgin's yelling out for Zack to call 9-1-1. A detail that will be etched into her mind because of his tone. The even way with which he took control of the situation. Taking control so that she didn't have to.

But, more than anything else, she would remember the metallic odor of the air as she applied pressure to his chest. The red of his blood as it seeped between her fingers. Leaning down close to his ear to whisper "I love you" just so that he would hear it one last time. The desperate need to press a kiss to his lips, alleviated only by their promise to one another that what was between them remained that way.

The rest was a blur. She wasn't family, so she couldn't be in the ambulance with him. When the doctor came out and told them Booth was gone, it didn't register. Jack and Angela caught her as she fell.

At home, everything reminded her of him. His scent was on her sheets. His clothes hung in her closet. She found herself brushing her teeth with his toothpaste and using his soap, taking comfort in feeling like he was still close.

She was so angry when she discovered he was alive and that she hadn't been told. He'd known well enough to stay away, waiting - like always - for her to seek him out. She'd found him in the bathroom in that ridiculous beer hat.

They'd yelled, they'd screamed. The cigar and graphic novel ending up in the tub as he peeled her clothes away. Tears mingling as they'd made love. Renewing faith. Rejoicing in life.

* * *

Booth get behind the wheel of the SUV, wishing like hell she'd given him a chance to explain himself. He makes a quick call to his father-in-law. He doesn't expect Max to take his side, but it's better to lay it on the line to the old man rather than be confronted afterwards. Once the meeting is set, he dials Sam.

"I'm putting together the team, Booth," Cullen tells him. "But it's going to take some time."

Booth looks at the dashboard clock. "How much time, Sam?" he asks. "We've only got 16 hours and you can bet my wife is co-opting the squints as we speak."

"Ah, but I've got someone on the inside," the older man says. Booth can hear the smile on his face. "Better you don't know about that, though."


	5. Going Home

**A/N:** I know I've been neglecting this one. Angst isn't my forte and this story is only going to continue to get darker. Thank you for all your patience and support.

Special thanks to stephaniew for taking up the beta mantle and helping me get this one back on track...and to lalaurala-bones for listening to me "ramble" on about where this is going.

**Warning: **In case you need a reminder, the genres for this one are **Angst/Drama**. No apologies, changies or take-backs.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones. _Which may be a good thing...

* * *

Going Home

You know those idiots who try to tell you that you can't go home? Well, they're wrong. You may not want to. You may not think that you can. For some, it may be more difficult than for others. But you can _always_ go home.

For Temperance Brennan, home will always be the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab and the family she left behind to begin her new life. She strides in with a visitor badge swinging from her neck, but it's like she never left. The sights and smells she knew for years make this place instantly recognizable.

Upon her arrival, Angela and Cam immediately descend from the platform and hurry to embrace her. She sees Zack standing on the platform with another young man and admires the growth of her former intern.

"Jack's with the board," Angela tells her as the pair steer her toward Angela's office. "We'll know about the ransom money soon." Her friend tries to offer a reassuring smile, but the artist's eyes are swollen from her own tears.

Cam sighs. "How are you holding up?"

Brennan's glare is enough to make the blood freeze in the veins of both of her friends.

"Okay," Cam replies. "Bad question. Where's Booth?"

"Not where he should be. And for once, that's a good thing." Angela grits her teeth as she moves closer to her best friend's side. "Because the next time I see that man, I'm going to kill him..."

A tear trickles down her face. "He doesn't want to pay the ransom," she sobs as she takes a seat on the couch.

Cam holds up a hand. "If Booth's saying that, there's a reason for it," the pathologist crosses her arms over her chest. It takes effort to maintain her cool, because she's a mother. She's a mother who was almost in a horrible situation. A situation that could have put her daughter on a steel slab on the platform. Gina had taken over Michelle's position as Katie's nanny less than a year ago. "There has to be."

**

* * *

**

_Seven years ago..._

Booth paces Cam's office. "We have to find her, Cam," the tone of his voice is definitive. _Failure is not an option._

"Easy there, Big Guy," she tells him as she perches on the edge of her desk. She eyes him as he moves like a caged lion, the muscles of his body rippling with every step. _If she wasn't married_...

"This shouldn't have happened, Camille," he bites out. "Where in the hell was security?"

"Don't call me Camille, Seeley," she responds. Her effort to lighten the situation fails as he turns to glare at her.

"I want my partner back," he says, raking his hands through his hair.

He looks broken. More so than she has ever seen him. They've known each other since they were kids growing up in Philadelphia. She's never seen him this affected by a woman before. And he was her husband's room mate in college. Her hand flies to her mouth. "Oh, my God," she gasps. "You're in love with her."

He walks to the door and closes it. "Be careful what you say, Cam," he warns. "The lab has ears."

She smiles at him and gives a soft chuckle. "Seeley Booth, you've been holding out..."

"No, Cam, I haven't," he tells her. He sighs as he leans over the back of a chair. "She doesn't know. And I really wanna keep it that way."

Cam's brow furrows. "You're scared she'll run," she says on a sigh.

He shakes his head. "I know she will," he says. "And I can't let that happen. She's too good at what she does. I can't risk losing her as my partner." He moves toward the door. "We need to find her, Cam. I don't know what I'll do if we don't..."

**

* * *

**

"Dr. Saroyan?" the young, blonde man who had been on the platform with Zack interrupted.

Cam's eyes snapped toward the door and she made effort to smile. "Yes, Mr. Bray?"

"Dr. Addy needs you on the platform and Special Agent Perotta is here," he tells her. He shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

"Tell them I'm on my way," she instructs before turning back to the other women. "Keep her in here," she says to Angela. Turning to Brennan, she adds, "Perotta is a ball-buster. I'll tell you as much as I can but she went out on a limb to get Katie's case. You need to stay away from the evidence so we can get the conviction."

Brennan stands up and takes a defensive posture. "I don't give a damn about a conviction, Dr. Saroyan," she says coolly. "I just want my daughter back."

**

* * *

**

The bell on the door jingles as Booth steps into the diner. He's greeted by the sad smile of Stephanie, the waitress who'd been serving Katie and Parker's Sunday morning pancakes for almost three years now. She hugs him. "I saw the interview, Mr. B.," she says. "How are you and Mrs. B. holding up? Any news yet?"

He releases her and shakes his head. "Nothing yet," he says to her. "Bones is a wreck. I'm not much better." He looks around the restaurant. "You seen my father-in-law come in yet?"

As she gestures to a table in the back corner, Max Keenan lowers his newspaper. Booth gulps at the expression on the man's face. "I don't suppose you took away the knives?" he asks her.

Stephanie gives a wry chuckle and shakes her head. Her long ponytail sways as she heads to the kitchen. Popping her head out she asks, "You're usual?"

Giving her a nod, he shuffles past other patrons to what he's hoping isn't a fate of certain doom. "I'm guessing she called you," he says as he sits down and slides closer to the table. "I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get Katie back, Max."

"I know, son," he says with a smile as his hands come to rest on the table. "All that non-sense about cutting off your..."

"I don't need the reminder, thanks, Max," Booth says as Stephanie approaches with his coffee.

**

* * *

**

_Four years, eleven months ago..._

"So, Booth," Max says as he leans back in his chair. "Tempe says you have something you want to tell me."

Booth fiddles with his napkin and looks into Brennan's eyes. He knows he can take anything that's thrown at him as long as he's beside her. Part of him still can't believe that he deserves _this_ - the life that they will be building together. He takes her hand and grins at her. "I've asked your daughter to marry me," he says slowly.

Brennan returns his smile. "And I said yes," leaning forward, she places a kiss on Booth's lips.

Max beams. "I knew you could convince her!" he says. "Welcome to the family, son!"

She looks at her dad. "There's more," she says. Her hand flutters over her flat abdomen. "We're having a baby."

Max chuckles, his grin impossibly broad. "That's one way to do it, kid," he tells Booth.

Booth gulps. "Look, Max, it's not like I planned for it to happen this way," he says. He shifts the glass of water that sits on the table in front of him before adding for good measure. "It wasn't like I planned for Parker to happen..."

Brennan takes the opportunity to save him from himself and he's reminded why he loves her all over again. "He asked me before we knew," she says, her eyes not faltering from their hold in his.

"None of that matters," Max says. "Oh, my baby girl is having a baby. Your mother would have been so happy!"

Brennan's eyes get sad. Booth's smile fades. She pushes past him and hurries to the bathroom. He starts to follow her. His instincts say that this has less to do with biology and more to do with the mention of her mother. "I should..." he starts. Eager to check on her. To protect her from the pain.

Max waves a hand. "If it's anything like it was with her mom, the morning sickness will pass quickly." He looks at the younger man, his expression becoming serious. "Listen, while we're alone," his voice is lowered. "If you hurt her, I swear I'll..."

"What, Max?" he asks. "Castrate me? You don't think your daughter would finish me long before you got the chance?"

Max's eyes twinkle, though his expression remains serious. "I was going to say they'd never find your body."

**

* * *

**

Booth catches Max up to date on what they know - the timeline, Gina's death, Brennan's desire to pay the ransom. He tells him about Cullen's plan to pull a team together. The next words that came out of his mouth shock the cop in him and rock his conscience down to his very soul. But he isn't a cop anymore. He's a father. A father to a little girl that's missing. A little girl that needs her mother. "I know that you know people, Max," he said. "People who might be able to help get information."

Max looks out the window. He sees his daughter walking across the street. "Yeah, I know some people. I'll call in some favors," he says absently. "You need to get out of here," he says. "Get that waitress to let you out the back. She can't know that we've talked, or we'll both be in trouble."

Booth looks up to see his wife waiting to cross the street. He wishes things were different. Wishes that she understood that he shares her desperation. That more than anything he just wants Katie back. "Thanks, Max," he answers.

Max grabs Booth's wrist. "We'll get her back, Booth," he says. "If it's the last thing I do, we'll bring Katie home."


	6. Daughters

**A/N: **Special thanks to stephaniew for catching all my goofy mistakes. Again. She's a great friend and I'm lucky she's willing to work with me on this project.

I'm anxious to get this back underway and make up for some of the recent posting delays. If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen that this ends differently than I planned. Someone special makes an unscheduled appearance. The muse takes you where it wants to go.

Thanks for your support. Let's rock and roll...

**Warning: **In case you need a reminder, the genres for this one are **Angst/Drama**. No apologies, changies or take-backs.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones. _Which may be a good thing...

* * *

Daughters

_15 hours to ransom deadline..._

Max gestures to Stephanie as he watches his daughter's approach. The waitress quickly removes the carnage of Booth's forgotten lunch and whisks it back to the kitchen. Max is caught off guard when Brennan flings herself into his arms. "Honey..." he says, wrapping his arms around her in a tender embrace.

She pulls away and sits down. "I want her back, Dad," she tells him as she wipes away fresh tears. "I want my little girl back. Booth doesn't understand what she's going through. He doesn't..."

"Tempe, she's Booth's daughter, too," he reminds her. I'm sure he wants Katie back."

"He doesn't want me to pay the ransom," she says hurriedly, her hands dropping into her lap. "Hodgins and I know what it's like, Dad. Paying the money gets her back quickly and..."

"Booth's a cop, honey," he informs her. "He wants to catch the bastard that did this to you and Katie."

"You don't know that it's a man," she says stubbornly.

_She was always so literal. She had been ever since she was a kid. _"I'm with Booth on this one," he admits, knowing that telling her now is better than the fallout of her finding out later.

"How could you say that? How could you take his side?" she asks, her tone rising and her hurt flashing in the tear-filled depths of her eyes.

"I'm saying it because had I been here when you were taken, had I known what was happening then, we wouldn't be in this situation now," his voice is filled with sadness and regret.

"Dad," she says, tilting her head to the side.

"You don't know, Tempe," he says softly. "You don't know because you can't. A father will go to great lengths to protect his daughter." He reaches across the table and takes her hand, adding, "Booth is a far better man than I am." For a moment he looks at her, admires the way she resembles her mother. The way her daughter resembles her. "I remember the day I first saw Katie almost as vividly as I do the day you were born..."

**

* * *

**

_Four years, three months ago..._

He doesn't knock when he gets to the door. Instead, he stands in the shadows of the doorway taking in the scene. Watching the family within the room.

Pink roses explode from a vase on the bedside table beneath a big balloon that proclaims "It's a Girl!" Teddy bears, a fruit basket and other paraphernalia cover all available surfaces.

A woman - his daughter - lays in a reclined position in the hospital bed, exhausted from hours of intense labor. Her eyes are closed. A soft smile touches her face as she rests.

In contrast, the man - his son-in-law - a man he has come to think very highly of, stands at the window. His figure is bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. He turns away toward the center of the room. In his arms is a tiny pink bundle. He holds the baby securely against the worn fabric of his vintage t-shirt and beams down at her. In a low voice he murmurs his love and that Daddy will always be there for her.

This is everything he's wanted for his girl - that she have a family of her own, a man that would love her the way he had loved her mom. He hesitates for a moment. In the space of a heartbeat, he considers leaving. Coming back later.

But his eyes meet those of Seeley Booth and the two men share a smile that only men with daughters understand. Having a son is having a legacy, but having a daughter? That was knowing the true depth and breadth of love. "Is this a private conversation or can Grandpa join in?" he asks softly.

Booth gestures with a tilt of his head for Max to come in, his eyes falling quickly back to the child in his arms. Max's eyes connect with a tiny pair of blue eyes. Eyes he's sure are even bluer than her mother's.

"Am I always gonna feel like this?" he asks his father-in-law. "Like I'd do anything to protect her?"

The older man's eyes soften and he grins. "Only every day for the rest of your life."

**

* * *

**

"He'd do anything - and I do mean anything - for Katie," he reassures her. "Even if it costs him his soul."

"You don't know that," Brennan responds with a tiny gasp.

"Yes, Tempe, I do," he says strongly. "Because I'd do the same for you.

**

* * *

**

Booth sits in the SUV. He leans his head back against the seat and feels a tear escape his eye. It slides down his face and drips from his chin into his lap.

This isn't the first time he felt like his life was falling apart. Watching his partner's life hang in the balance, watching her react to nearly losing him, was completely different than the emotions that filled him now.

This went beyond the desperation. The drive to save her at all cost. He had often said he would kill for his wife. He had killed to save her life. But that was different. That was a life or death situation.

Sadness. The thought that they may never find Katie. Or worse, that they would find her and he would have to watch the love of his life cope with burying their child.

Anger. Jaw clenching, gut twisting. He knows he is capable of taking who ever is responsible apart with his bare hands. And he's angry at himself for feeling that way. For being willing to take justice into his own hands.

Hope. It's a tiny flicker, but it's there. He shifts his weight and pulls his wallet from the right rear pocket of his jeans. Flipping it open, he pulls out the pictures he carries there.

Parker and Katie from two years ago. His son grinning as he sat behind his daughter on a sled in the snow. That had been a great vacation. The perfect big brother, Parker had made sure to hold Katie's hand and protect her.

Katie on his shoulders in the park. Her floppy red sunhat matching the red of her popsicle stained lips. He smiles, the memory of melted sugar water sticky on the back of his neck.

But there are memories that are fresh that he doesn't carry in his wallet. Memories he hopes are not the last ones he'll have of his Katie Bug.

**

* * *

**

He lays in bed, his senses on alert. He can hear his wife shuffling in their closet. He also hears something else. Tiny footsteps. He feels a hand on the edge of the bed and feels someone trying to sneak up on him. He works hide to stifle a smile as she scrambles up beside him.

Lightning reflexes, he reaches out and tackles her. Tickling fingers cause a fit of giggles and shrieks of delight. "Baby, there's a Bug in our bed!" he calls out to Brennan.

"Daddy!" she cackles as she squirms. The hem of her My-Little-Pony t-shirt rides up and he goes in for the kill. He blows a raspberry onto her waiting belly button.

Brennan joins them. She smiles and reaches to give Katie her morning hug. Looking down at her mother's feet, the girl giggles and shakes her head. "Wear the red ones, Mommy!" little fingers touch the chunky necklace at her throat. "Please?"

Setting the little girl back on the bed, she smiles as she tugs off the heels on her feet. Reaching into a box on an upper shelf, she withdraws a pair of shiny red pumps. "These?" she asks, holding them out for her daughter to see.

Katie claps her hands and snuggles next to Booth. "Yes!"

She quickly slips on the shoes and looks at her watch. "I'm going to be late!" she says, leaning down to give each of them a kiss.

Booth looks at the alarm clock on the bedside table. "It's not even 6:30 yet," he says to her. "The interview isn't until 9 AM."

"And you know how brutal traffic can be," she laments. Tickling Katie and earning her own laugh, she tells the child, "I'll meet you after Gina takes you to the park, okay?" Katie nods. Her tummy growls. _She's definitely a Booth. _

Booth pushes back the covers. "I heard it," he says, giving his wife one last kiss. "Go, I've got this."

"See you at the restaurant later?" she asks.

"Yep," he answers, swinging Katie over his shoulder.

"Booth, carrying her like that isn't good for your back," Brennan scolds, even as she smiles at the pair.

"You know, Bones, my back is fine," he answers.

Katie squeals in her father's grip. "Daddy, can we have pancakes for breakfast?"

**

* * *

**

They'd made pancakes. And sung the Trying song as they'd done the dishes together. When Gina had arrived, he'd gone to do inventory at _The Nut House._ But not before one last syrupy kiss.

At the ring of his cell, he pulls the device from his pocket. "Booth," he barks into the receiver.

"I've gotten a couple people together and I've made a call to my inside man," Cullen's voice comes on the line. "Are you available for a meeting?"

"Where?" he asks as he fires the ignition and turns on the GPS. He enters the address. "I'll be there in 15 minutes, 20 tops."

"I have some information, Booth," Cullen tells him. "I'll tell you when you get here, but you should know the pieces don't line up..."


End file.
